


Blindfolded

by Nympha_Alba



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nympha_Alba/pseuds/Nympha_Alba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An insane idea takes shape in Bradley's mind. "You want him, don't you? I could be him... for you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindfolded

**Author's Note:**

> This is B/C meets _Junjou Romantica_. The blindfolds made me do it!

Over the past few weeks, Colin's vocabulary has shrunk to the word _no_. He repeats it now, shaking his head and closing his door quietly in Bradley's face. And Bradley's had enough, enough of the silence and misery, and pounds on the door until it opens again so abruptly that Colin barely avoids getting punched in the face.

"You can't keep doing this, mate," Bradley says, wedging himself in between the door and the frame. "Locking yourself in your room won't make it better. Let's go get ourselves pissed. Or come over to mine and watch a dvd. Just... something, anything, to stop you brooding."

"Am not brooding," Colin mutters.

"Oh?" Bradley crosses his arms and makes his back comfortable against the doorframe, planting his feet firmly apart. "What do you call this then?"

Colin shrugs, the toe of his shoe making a small, fan-shaped back-and-forth movement over the carpet, like a windscreen wiper. "I need some time, Bradley. Just let me…"

His eyes come up to Bradley's, tragic and dark, but Bradley studies him unsympathetically.

"I should just let you wallow?"

"Please, Bradley."

And Bradley has never been able to resist Colin pleading, so he steps back and shrugs, allowing the door to close like a sigh.

*

 

What idiot would reject Colin? It would be like kicking a puppy. What fucking _idiot_ wouldn't want him? Bradley does, badly, but that thought would never occur to Colin and would probably put him off if it did.

Ever since a very drunk Colin confessed to being in love with someone he met back in Ireland during filming, in love with someone who happens to be a bloke and really ridiculously straight and will never love him back, Bradley's been unable to stop imagining what Colin must look like in love. When he's all lit up and radiant with it.

Instead, Bradley watches Merlin's forced laugh and too convincing tears and turns Arthur into an even bigger prat than usual. Between them they ruin take after take, unable to stop their true feelings coming through. In short, they're completely unprofessional, and under normal circumstances the words "Colin Morgan" and "unprofessional" would never be mentioned together.

But perhaps it's getting better or perhaps Colin has just given up trying to fight Bradley off, because he doesn't shrug off Bradley's arm when they leave the set that night.

"Is there anything I can do?" Bradley asks helplessly in front of Colin's hotel room door. The question comes out all wrong, sounding oddly formal and slightly insincere. "Anything," he amends. "Hugs. Chocolate. Beer. Rentboy?"

That makes Colin snort, a painful kind of snort, the way you laugh when something's too sad for a grin and too pathetic for tears.

"Col..."

As if the nickname is a password, Colin opens the door and lets Bradley enter. The lock snicks home behind them, the sound final.

"A hug would be good. If it means you'll stop pestering me." But he says it with affection and a smile touches the corner of his mouth.

Bradley's stomach drops. "Come here, then," he murmurs, pulling Colin to him.

Colin relaxes against him, sighing into Bradley's shoulder and gathering Bradley's t-shirt into his fists at the waist, and Bradley runs his hands soothingly up and down Colin's back. There's nothing but their breathing for a few long minutes and Bradley can't help thinking how their skin is separated only by two thin layers of fabric, how close Colin's mouth is to Bradley's neck. It fills him with guilt. He's supposed to comfort a friend, not be turned on by holding him.

But of course his actions aren't entirely altruistic. While he can't stand seeing Colin so despondent, while he truly wants to help, comforting Colin provides an excellent excuse for... this.

It doesn't last. Colin pulls away, gives Bradley a smile that doesn't reach his eyes and says thank you, always so polite. And that's that. Bradley smiles back, a fake fake fake smile that would be an embarrassment to any actor, and leaves.

*

 

The hugging turns into a regular thing. They return to the hotel in the evening, Bradley follows Colin to his room and they hug for five minutes inside the door before Bradley leaves.

Tonight there's something different about it; Colin is so pliant in the circle of Bradley's arms. When he rubs his face gently against Bradley's shoulder, like a cat scent-marking its owner, Bradley's hands find their way into his hair and there's a soft sigh, pleased. Content.

Bradley's knees feel unreliable and weak so he squares his shoulders and leans back on the door. His fingers comb slowly through Colin's hair that's dusty from Merlin falling to the ground over and over. Colin's body aligns itself so perfectly with Bradley's that he has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself groaning.

An insane idea is taking shape in his mind. His fingertips slide down the back of Colin's neck, move softly around to the side and up to play with the earlobe. Colin exhales a warm breath into the neckline of Bradley's t-shirt, mumbling something against his skin that shudders through him in a frisson of heat.

This can be disaster. Or it can be really good.

"Let me help you," Bradley whispers. "Let me... let me take care of you."

Colin stirs in his arms but only to nestle more comfortably, with a small movement of his hips that makes Bradley swallow a whimper.

"What do you mean?" The words are spoken into the crook of his neck and Colin must feel him now, hot through his jeans.

"You want him," Bradley whispers, "don't you? You want him."

Colin shudders but doesn't move away. A nod.

"I could..." Bradley wonders that his heartbeat doesn't reverberate around the room. "Would you let me...?"

Colin just _breathes_. "Bradley..."

Words are fighting for space in Bradley's head, in his mouth.

"I could be him. For you. I could... blindfold you. And you can pretend you're with him."

It is an insane idea, and Colin is silent for so long that Bradley begins to contemplate the best method for instant suicide. Then there's another nod.

There's a _nod_ , and Bradley can't get his head around it, but his heart is wild in his chest.

 _Maybe if I touch him. Maybe he'll feel it then, and know._

*

 

It's slow at first, after Bradley's hands stop shaking enough for him to tie the blindfold at the back of Colin's head.

It's Bradley who removes most of their clothes since Colin can't see and his fingers scrabble ineffectually over Bradley's front and sides, and Bradley who does most of the touching. After all, he can look at Colin unrestrained, let his gaze linger on pale skin and soft shadows, on planes and angles that his hands can trace, almost reverently. But when Colin's fingertips play over Bradley's ribs and dip below the waistband of his jeans, they abruptly cross the line where they can't hold back. They stumble onto the bed, Bradley still with his shirt on and Colin with his jeans pushed down his thighs. With Colin's mouth on his neck, Bradley gasps _get inside me, I need you inside me_.

It's all a blur of moans and half-formed words and hands on sweaty skin, and Bradley's head is spinning and his body zinging with the feeling of Colin pushing into him. It burns and stings, it's desperate and hard and then they're both coming, messily, unbeautifully, together.

When everything is quiet and their breathing has returned to normal, Bradley slides off the bed and gathers up his clothes. Colin is on his back with his face half-turned to the wall, still blindfolded.

In the corridor, Bradley blinks against the strangely liquid light, blinks until his vision is clear.

*

 

It's a one time thing that keeps happening, and it happens in darkness and silence, with one of them blind and the other tongue-tied. Bradley doesn't think they could stop now, doesn't know if he wants them to or not. He knows Colin's body so well, his mouth knows it and his hands and eyes; the thrusts and twists and the smooth skin, the small breathy noises and the strangled ones.

The blindfold allows them both to live their hopeless dreams.

*

 

Colin's had a tough day on set, losing people again, crying over and over for the camera. His eyes are red-rimmed and tired and fall shut as Bradley pulls him close, sliding his fingers into Colin's hair.

When Colin whispers _blindfold me?_ , Bradley's reply is an instinctive _no_. There's been enough acting for one day, enough things not being quite what they seem. He lets his lips touch Colin's temple before he slips out to lean against the door from the outside. He imagines Colin pressed to the other side of it, imagines his own palms flat against Colin's but unable to feel them.

 _We've done everything_ , he thinks. _Everything except look at each other. Everything except kiss_.

When the door opens it's so unexpected he almost falls backwards. He turns to meet Colin's eyes, tired but burning with a strange, slow fire. Colin gestures with his head, a sideways nod towards the room, and Bradley steps back inside.

He's pushed against the door with his t-shirt bunched up in Colin's fists and Colin's mouth close, his breath on Bradley's lips. Bradley swallows.

"Without it, then," Colin breathes. "Without the blindfold."

A heartbeat, two, and then Colin's stubble is scratching Bradley's palms as his tongue slips into Bradley's mouth.

When Bradley straddles Colin on the bed, their eyes lock and don't let go, trying to make up for weeks in mere seconds. Afterwards, as they lie panting shoulder to shoulder in sweat-damp sheets, Bradley turns to look at Colin, look at him properly. And when he gets a smile in return he realises that this, _this_ is what Colin looks like in love, all lit up and radiant with it.


End file.
